


Sing 'till you struggle to breathe

by melissachan



Series: Danganronpa Short Fics [9]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Despair Disease (Dangan Ronpa), Gen, Ibuki's POV, Identity Issues, One Shot, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28695273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissachan/pseuds/melissachan
Summary: Ibuki Mioda couldn't refuse a request from her dear friend Mikan Tsumiki. Neither could she distrust her or doubt her good intentions.
Relationships: Mioda Ibuki & Tsumiki Mikan
Series: Danganronpa Short Fics [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045011
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Sing 'till you struggle to breathe

“Please, come with me.”

Mikan’s voice was sweet and calming. A bit too sickeningly saccharine, perhaps, to the point of sounding almost sarcastic. Everything about the way she talked screamed “fake,” but Ibuki Mioda would never distrust her dear friend or suspect her of any ill intent.

“Your concert was interrupted so abruptly and it made me sad. I want to hear one more song, please,” she continued to talk, holding Ibuki by her hand, heading away from the hospital. They had to move carefully, because Ibuki’s sight was blocked by the bag on her head. “It’s because I want to make a surprise for you, and don’t want you to see anything too early,” Mikan had explained, giggling softly, playfully, almost sinisterly. It had seemed like the light left her eyes. Because she was so sad she didn’t have an opportunity to listen to that song, Ibuki had concluded, nodding enthusiastically, trying seem as cheerful as her weakened, sick body would allow.

Everything inside her screamed to run, every instinct of her body and soul was telling her to scream, shout, try to break free, run away, get as far from Mikan as possible, tell everyone she’s acting strange and unnatural, and dangerous, but… But Ibuki couldn’t. Of course, how could she distrust her friend? It wasn’t like she was not in control of her body. Every careful step, her grip on Mikan’s hand, every time she turned her head, listening to the soft song of crickets and cicadas, to the wind playing with the leaves, to the distant humming of the ocean – it was still what Ibuki Mioda was doing.

She was controlling her body – but she almost felt like she didn’t own her mind anymore. She tried, she really tried, almost to the point of wanting to cry and sob and tremble in the corner, but she couldn’t distrust a single word Mikan Tsumiki was saying.

The sound of their footsteps became sharper and louder as they entered the building, soft grass and mossy ground replaced by polished wooden floorboards. “We’re in music venue right now.” – Mikan’s voice was still soft and for a second she sounded sad, almost… guilty. “So, stay here and wait until I finish some preparations for your last performance, okay?” – Ibuki couldn’t see her face, but her tone switched to cheerful again, and it was enough to calm down. She nodded, hoping that her friend could see it behind the bag. Mikan giggled – no, laughed – quietly.

Mikan moved away, and began to fiddle with some things, Ibuki could hear distantly. Soon after that she began to move something heavy – Ibuki didn’t even have to use her exceptional hearing to understand that. What was it, she wondered? A fancy microphone? A giant garniture? Or maybe a hand-made decoration that Mikan prepared just for her, like a dragon whose scales matched the colors of her hair and its wings were like her guitars and its horns resembled her headband. Ibuki was so excited to see it!

She was excited to remove the bag and see anything, to shoo away the feeling of fear, like it would dissolve along with darkness before her eyes. She trusted Mikan, of course she did, but she really, really wanted her to make it faster, and a bit less scary, a bit less sinister and suspicious and just weird.

Ibuki heard the door opening, followed by someone’s slow footsteps. They were quiet, very quiet – and by that she understood that the person who came was small, probably Hiyoko or Fuyuhiko… Did Mikan invite them to listen to her song as well?

“Hey, what the hell?! What are you doing here?!’ Mikan suddenly yelled, showing Ibuki that she was wrong.

“I could be asking the same?! What do you need here at this time, you disgusting pig barf?! I thought you were supposed to watch over your patients or something!” – the visitor answered, and by their high-pitched childish voice Ibuki understood it was none other than Hiyoko. “Hey, Ibuki is there too…” Hiyoko added, with a hint of fear undeniably audible in her tone. “Just what the hell is going on here!?” – her voice was now trembling. She made a step forward, then step back, as if she wasn’t sure if she wanted to come closer, or to run away as fast as she could.

Before she could decide, Ibuki heard another noise, a loud thud that spread through the room as Mikan ran – almost jumped – towards Hiyoko. Hiyoko let out a long, high-pitched yell, followed by a quick succession of thuds, hits and slaps. It was short, nothing similar to a struggle; more like a chase ending with a low, quiet giggle. A chill ran down through Ibuki’s spine, and she felt goosebumps covering her shoulders quickly.

“Mikan? What’s happening?” she asked uncertainly, her voice muffled by the bag. She sounded scared, she suddenly realized. That was bad. Why would she be so ungrateful for her friend’s effort?

“Don’t worry, Ibuki! Hiyoko just wanted to help us prepare for your wonderful concert!” Mikan explained, her voice now loud and sinister and almost gloating. Hiyoko groaned, sounding weak and muffled, as if something was covering her mouth now. “But before that, I will play many wonderful games with her!” – Mikan proclaimed, barely keeping her giggles.

Another high-pitched yell followed. This time it wasn’t Hiyoko’s. The temptation to remove the bag was almost irresistible now. Ibuki was curious, so excited to see what kind of preparations her friends were making, what kind of games they were playing together…

“Ibuki!” – she heard Hiyoko’s voice, turning her head to it instinctively. “Ibuki, please run! It’s not sa–” – the voice suddenly got drowned, interrupted by a sound that Ibuki could describe only as the gasp of a person who couldn’t breathe. Mikan was now swearing quietly, complaining about her bit finger, and about how much fun was lost. Hiyoko was still trying to say something, her voice reduced to quiet wheezes and gurgles. Then, it suddenly went quiet.

Ibuki, please, run! It’s not safe here! Mikan is trying to kill you! Why couldn’t Hiyoko be faster and say it? Why couldn’t she save her? Why couldn’t she let her finally escape? Ibuki gulped, sensing Mikan coming closer, now dragging something across the room with herself. No signs of Hiyoko’s presence were left.

“Don’t worry, Ibuki. That little bitch Hiyoko didn’t want to play, so she bit my finger and left. But it won’t affect your concert, and the preparations are almost finished,” Mikan spoke with a soft quiet voice, gently putting whatever she was holding on the ground. The words returned the feeling of safety and calmness Ibuki was missing. Now it was all cleared up. None of those strange things she imagined had really happened, she told herself. Her friend was there. Her friend Mikan Tsumiki, who would never lie to her or deceive her.

Mikan walked around her slowly, now standing behind. Ibuki felt a rope touching her neck lightly. One second later, it was pressed against her throat, making it hard to breathe. But Ibuki didn’t flinch. She trusted Mikan Tsumiki. She had to. “Normally it takes about 5 to 7 minutes, depending on your physical condition. So, after that time we will start your concert,” Mikan spoke quietly, explaining everything in a weird tone between sad and gloating. “Your last stage play, we could call it” – Ibuki didn’t see the other girl, but by her sweet tone she understood she was smiling.

The rope tightened against her neck, and the simple task of breathing went from hard to impossible. Ibuki opened her mouth in an attempt to get more air, in vain. Mikan put her hand on the bag and quickly moved it up. They were standing on a stage, Ibuki realized. Mikan didn’t lie. She just wanted to listen to the song.

She just needed to hold on for a little longer.

The lack of oxygen started to become unbearable. Ibuki’s body twitched – no, she didn’t try to escape, why would she want to run from her friend, but she couldn’t control it. Her hands reached to her throat, rubbing against it lightly, trying to go under the rope and weaken it, but Mikan’s grip was tight and merciless, enough to make all the efforts vain and ineffective. Ibuki wheezed, struggling to breathe, but the air didn’t come no matter how hard she tried.

Was it the same game they were playing with Hiyoko? If so, it was no fun at all! No wonder she decided to bite Mikan. If Ibuki could do it now, she would too. Just bite her, and say her preparation started to become a bit too long and grueling.

“Please, listen to one song,” Ibuki wished to say now, but the only sounds she could make were muffled gasps and painful wheezes. Annoyed by them, or just a bit too merciful for the Remnant of Despair, Mikan tightened the rope a bit more, making her neck crunch loudly and go limp, her consciousness leaving her with a last weak, gurgling, choked out rattle.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Izum for beta read.


End file.
